Title: Price of Peace 2

Author: Tesekian

Email: Tesekian@yahoo.co.uk  Any feedback will be gratefully received, even the
bad stuff as long as it's helpful. 

Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn eventually. 

Rating: It will be NC-17, but it isn't yet. 

Summary: AU. When Mirkwood and Gondor form an alliance, ancient laws over
treaties with mortal races demand that one of the king's family be sent to the
serve the mortal king. How will Legolas survive in a city of men? Will he ever
be able to call it home? 

Warnings: There will be rape at some point in the distant future. Probably. 

Archive: Ask first, I'll probably say yes.

***

By Faramir's reluctant orders, Legolas found himself locked in a small cell,
which contained only a hard bed. There were no windows, apart from a grill in
the heavy door allowing someone without to view the prisoner. A chain, fixed to
a ring on the wall, was locked into the manacle around his right ankle. It was
long enough for him to walk a few paces across the room, but stop him just short
of reaching the door. 

Legolas sat on the bed, his head resting on his hands, feeling the weight of
stone surrounding him, enclosing him on all sides. This was his first day in
this city of men, and already he found himself imprisoned. He should not have
struck the man, but, sitting in the cell, wondered what would have happened if
he had not. Would the man have kept coming? He seemed unperturbed by Legolas'
refusal, and would probably have kept up his advances until Legolas was forced
to use violence or surrender. 

And surrender was not an option. 

He was sworn to obey the king, but that did not mean any citizen of Gondor was
free to take him. He would not let any man take him unless he be specifically
ordered to do so by his master. 

He wondered if that would make a good enough defence. Would the king like his
property being approached in this manner? Perhaps he would grow jealous and
demand that the man be punished. He certainly couldn't punish both of them in
this case, since either Legolas was guilty of an unprovoked attack or he was
not. 

But if the king grew jealous, Legolas worried, perhaps he would grow more
possessive, and force himself on Legolas immediately. That option was probably
worse than any punishment he might be dealt. 

But surely if the king would force himself on Legolas eventually, demanding this
duty from his slave, it would be better if he did so now and got it over with.
Legolas didn't like just waiting for something to happen. At least this way,
Legolas would not have to face some additional pain as well. 

Neither option seemed appealing to him. He wished he could be home again, back
with his father in Mirkwood. He wished whomever had thought up this stupid law
could be brought in front of him so he could speak his mind. Surely there were
other ways of showing a symbol of peace. Ways that didn't demand the sacrifice
of royalty. 

He sat for some immeasurable length of time, feeling the dark and dank closing
in about him. He could be locked away forever, trapped in this prison of stone.
Time passed slowly, and, trapped as he was, there was no way for Legolas to know
how much had gone. What portion of his slavery had he already spent in this
cell? It could have been a year and he wouldn't have known. 

At last the door opened and Faramir entered. Standing in the doorway were
guards, the emblem of the tree gleaming slightly in the dim light of the
corridor outside. They waited without, giving the impression that they felt
Legolas wasn't much of a threat to their steward's brother. Faramir unfastened
the chain, but did not take Legolas out immediately. 

"You are to be taken to the king for judgement," Faramir said, "take care to
speak only the truth. If you are not to blame for what happened, he was listen,
if you are, denying it will only worsen your situation." 

"Which do you believe?" Legolas asked, thinking that this man might be a sign of
how things would be in the king's hall. 

Faramir's answer was diplomatic and noncommittal: "I do not know you well enough
to make such a judgement." 

"But King Elessar does?" 

"It is the king's duty to pass judgements and see that justice is served, but he
always judges fairly. One who has done no wrong has nothing to fear from him."
Legolas wondered if this might be a suggestion that Faramir, despite his earlier
answer, believed Legolas in the right. 

Legolas walked a step behind Faramir out of the cell, the guards flanking him.
The throne room was only a short distance away, for which Legolas was extremely
grateful as it meant he didn't have to pass crowds of curious humans. They
passed enough windows on their brief journey for Legolas to determine that it
was afternoon, almost certainly of the same day. His time in the cell had seemed
so much longer. 

Fortunately, the walk didn't seem nearly so long, and they soon walked into the
throne room. Elessar was seated on a throne raised above the floor by a dais of
many steps. Faramir and the guards bowed to him, and Legolas did likewise. The
man from the gardens stood there, a purple bruise forming on his chin and his
expression as he looked at Legolas was a mixture of lust and fury. Beside him
was Boromir, his face expressionless. Legolas could not even guess whose side
the steward was on. 

King Elessar, enthroned as he was, looked almost as regal as King Thranduil. The
robes, which had appeared nothing but a hindrance earlier, now made him seem
taller and more powerful. He was sitting, tall and proud, above the few
assembled. Even Legolas, proud prince of Mirkwood, was slightly intimidated by
the sight. 

"Legolas of Mirkwood," Elessar spoke, formally, "you are accused by Lord Gregor
of assaulting a citizen of Gondor without justifiable cause or provocation. This
is your chance to speak in your defence." 

Legolas hesitated a moment, his face flushing slightly with shame as he
remembered what had taken place. The man, Lord Gregor, was smiling smugly at the
king's words, as though feeling himself in favour. 

"This man," he began, indicating the lord at Boromir's side, "made advances
towards me which I did not desire or reciprocate. I asked him to stop, stating
that I had no desire for his company, but he refused to listen." 

"Did he hurt you before you struck him, or make any sign that could be seen as
an attempt to do so?" 

"No," Legolas answered quietly. 

"He admits it!" the lord began, but was silenced by the king raising his hand. 

"Did you feel that he would force himself upon you if you did not stop him?"
Elessar asked of Legolas. 

"He said I had no right to deny him," Legolas answered. He could not bring
himself to continue, but the king must have seen that he held something back,
because he ordered, "Speak!" sharply. 

"He called me a whore," Legolas said quietly, shame burning his face as he did
so. He didn't even meet the king's eyes, unable to contain the sadness and
humiliation that a single word could cause. 

"Have you an answer for this?" 

"It's common knowledge what he's here for," the man answered, his voice lacking
any of the shame Legolas felt. "He's here to serve as a pleasure slave." Again
the man's eyes were filled with desire, and Legolas wrenched his own gaze away,
unable to bear the sight of such primitive lust. 

"He is here to serve me, that is true," Elessar said quietly, "but Lords Boromir
and Faramir, along with many others, have sworn their lives to my service. Would
you accuse them as you have done Prince Legolas?" The inquiry seemed calm,
almost casual, but it was enough to show Legolas the contempt Elessar felt for
the man before him. It seemed as though the trial had shifted, and it was now
this man facing the king's judgement. 

"I. . . No, your majesty, I would not." 

"It is the right of every person in Gondor, whether they are citizens by birth
or not, to defend their honour. By your advances to Prince Legolas, you have
violated a law of this land, and as such must be punished. Lord Faramir?" 

"Yes, your majesty?" Faramir answered. 

"I understand that Lord Gregor suggested a punishment for Legolas." 

"Yes, your majesty, he suggested that the prince be beaten." 

"Then perhaps it would be fitting for Lord Gregor to suffer the punishment that
he himself suggested." The man's face had gone pale with horror at the
suggestion. 

Elessar then beckoned Faramir closer. The words spoken between them surely
couldn't have been heard by Lord Gregor, but Legolas' sharp ears caught them. 

"The shame will be a far worse punishment than any beating could be, so it
needn't be one with a strong arm who administers it." 

"It should be public?" Faramir inquired. 

"Not somewhere that crowds could gather," Elessar answered, "but in one of the
courtyards of the palace, so that there might be some to see. Do not have him
punished immediately. Give him a day to consider his fate." Faramir bowed his
head, and then descended the steps. A signal to the guards had them leading Lord
Gregor out. 

The man had recovered enough from his shock now to be pulling back, begging for
the king to change his mind. Elessar remained impassive, and soon the man and
his pleas were gone. 

Elessar descended the steps of his throne, and looked closely at Legolas. A key
appeared in his hand from somewhere, and he reached out to take Legolas' wrist,
unlocking the manacle that imprisoned it. 

"I think we have no need for these," he said, removing the others quickly. 

 "Dispose of these," he said, handing the metal rings to Boromir, "then go to my
study and wait there. I will join you shortly." Boromir bowed his head slightly
and walked out. Elessar then turned to Legolas. 

"Come," he said gently, and placed a hand on Legolas' arm, guiding him from the
room. It sounded more like a request than an order, but Legolas could not forget
his place here. Lord Gregor had stated it clearly enough: Legolas was a slave. 

Legolas remembered the words Elessar had spoken, comparing him to Boromir or
Faramir, but Legolas wondered how often they had woken in their king's bed. It
was most likely just a dislike for Lord Gregor that had caused him to speak as
he had, nothing more. Elessar was still Legolas' master. The right to defend his
honour was only his as long as he was defending it from one of Elessar's
subjects. 

They arrived shortly at Elessar's chambers and went inside. Legolas caught a
glimpse of himself in a mirror and had to contain a gasp of shock. He had no
idea how he could have got so dirty in such a short space of time. It looked as
though he had been grovelling in the dirt in the gardens instead of just walking
in them. 

"I will have servants bring up hot water for a bath, if you would like," Elessar
said, "and there are clean clothes in the chest. I will have someone come up
when it is time to attend dinner." 

"Thank you, my lord," Legolas responded, feeling more grateful than he would
have suspected. Elessar shrugged off the formal robes and hung them away. Then
he left, obviously wishing to continue with whatever duties the incident with
Lord Gregor had interrupted. 

Legolas went to the chest, and looked through the contents. A decent supply of
clothing was folded neatly, a mixture of tunics and robes. The sizes varied
slightly, as though the tailor was not entirely certain of the measurements of
the wearer. No item was especially ornate, but all of them were well made. They
were almost all far simpler than he'd have worn in Mirkwood, except when hunting
or training, and clearly marked his status as being less than those around him. 

Still, at least he wasn't being kept naked and chained to a bed. When he left
Mirkwood, his mind had run through all manner of terrifying and unlikely
possibilities for his slavery. The reality was proving to be lot better than any
of them. 

He chose from the selection available a pale green tunic and matching leggings.
Most of the clothing available was in various shades of green, with a few golds
and browns giving variety. It seemed the tailor had specific ideas about elven
colours. 

The servants' arrival with the hot water was well timed, and Legolas sank
gratefully into the steaming bath. Bath oils filled the room with sweet scent,
and he lay back, simply enjoying the sensation of relaxation and cleanliness. It
had been over a week since he had last had a bath, and he had missed them
immensely. 

He emerged a long time later, when the water had gone completely cold. He
dressed quickly and returned to the bedroom. It was still empty, Elessar clearly
busy elsewhere. A glance out of the window told Legolas that it was growing
towards evening and he would probably be summoned to dinner soon. 

In the meantime, he noticed his bag resting against the wall where Faramir had
left it. Legolas opened it, and looked through the contents. He didn't think
that Elessar had checked yet what the bag contained, as Faramir had suggested he
would. He took out the miniature of his father, painted a few years ago. It was
a silly and sentimental thing to bring, but he had wanted something with him to
remind him of home. 

***

Even with the interruption, Elessar's duties had lasted longer than he'd
expected them to. He'd been rather distracted during his discussions with
Boromir. He was thinking of Legolas and the treaty. 

The word 'slave' was never mentioned explicitly, but the interpretation was an
easy one to make from what was said. He'd made the same interpretation himself,
teasing the twins about their position in his court. But for Legolas it was no
joke. He thought, as Gregor did, that he was here as a slave to serve the king's
pleasure. 

True, he couldn't deny that the idea of sleeping with Legolas was tempting, but
not something he could do with a clear conscience. The prince tensed up if
Elessar so much as touched him. Elessar couldn't remember anyone so afraid of
him, at least not in the same way. Prisoners and criminals would tremble when
brought to face justice, but they had done wrong and had a reason to fear. No
one had ever feared him without good reason to do so. 

Elessar sighed. He'd talk to Boromir tomorrow about arranging a separate room
for Legolas. He'd been foolish to consider having the prince sleep in his. He'd
thought that Legolas might one someone to be there for him in the first few days
here, but Elessar's presence was hardly giving him any comfort. 

He arrived at the dining room to find the others already assembled. They rose as
he entered and turned to face west, Legolas mimicking what was now instinct for
the others. He glanced around curiously during the standing silence, then took
his seat when the others did. 

The twins returned to the quarrel that Elessar's arrival had interrupted,
muttering to each other and, apparently, kicking each other under the table.
Elessar sometimes felt that the twins acting like three year olds, despite
centuries of life. They had realised a long while ago that their father was
immortal and extremely unlikely to get killed in a battle, so there was really
no reason for them to expect the duties and responsibilities that any human
child would naturally receive one day. Their discovery enabled the twins to feel
free to behave as childishly as they wished, in very little danger of needing to
grow up one day. 

Prince Legolas however, sitting across the table from the twins and looking in
great danger of receiving a stray kick, had grown up in a place where growing up
was extremely necessary. Mirkwood was full of perils and the prince was needed
to protect his people. He had to learn all his father's duties because, in his
realm, even those of the royal family were not completely safe. Elessar briefly
considered sending the twins to Mirkwood, in the hope that they would learn how
to behave like civilised adults. 

Now the standing silence was over, the servant stepped forward to serve. Each
offered his dish to the king first, then moved round the rest of the table.
There was no set order after Elessar and the servants had developed a pattern
that meant everyone was being served something so no one had to sit and wait at
the end while to final diners were served. 

"The standing silence," Elessar explained to Legolas, "is a tradition amongst
the people of Gondor. Before we dine, we face west, towards where Numenor stood
of old." 
"There was no standing silence at breakfast," Legolas commented. 

The twins' battle was now growing more violent, causing the table to shake with
their efforts. Elessar glanced at Faramir, then at the twins, and was sure that
Faramir got his meaning. With a nod to Faramir, he kicked Elladan sharply. 

"Ow!" both twins exclaimed together. Yes, Faramir had understood. 

Elessar ignored the twins, and carried on talking to Legolas as though nothing
had happened. "Formalities are less strictly adhered to at breakfast than at
other meals," he said, "though some people are incapable of formality whatever
time of day it is." He didn't look at the twins to see if his message had been
understood. He was certain that it was, but doubted that the twins would
actually do anything about it. 

The meal passed swiftly and, for the most part, silently. Legolas was unwilling
to make much conversation, and Elessar could understand why, given what he'd
been through that day. Faramir and Boromir clearly decided that this was not the
time for cheerful talk. Even the twins were reasonably restrained, now that
Elessar had quelled their quarrel with some intervention of the same sort. 

Legolas ate only a little, picking at the food on his plate as though he feared
it might decide to eat him instead. He looked utterly miserable, and Elessar
wished he could put a comforting arm around those slender shoulders. He didn't
though, knowing that such an action from him was likely to have the opposite
effect to the one he intended. 

"I have never been to Mirkwood," Elessar said, hoping that getting Legolas
involved in a discussion might help him, "is it nice at this time of year?" 

"It's nice at all times of year," Legolas responded, still looking at his plate.
He twirled a chunk of carrot on his fork. 

"I think most people feel that way about the place they are born." That received
no answer, so Elessar went on, "There are woods near Minas Tirith. Nothing the
size of Mirkwood, of course, but if you feel the desire to go riding in them,
you have only to say so." 

"Thank you, my lord," Legolas said quietly. There was no trace of gratitude in
his voice, and Elessar didn't really know what to say that could help matters.
The room lapsed into silence again. 

He was grateful when everyone had finished eating because it meant he could
leave behind the tension and nervous atmosphere. Legolas left with him, walking
half a step behind as they made their way through the palace. It was too late
now for arrangements to be made for Legolas' room. The prince would have to
survive one more night. 

When they arrived at Elessar's rooms, Legolas perched on the edge of the bed,
clearly trying to conceal fear. Elessar stood for some time, watching the elf
fail to look at him. He remembered Gregor's words and Legolas' reaction to them. 

"You're not a whore, Legolas," he said gently. 

Legolas lifted his gaze from the floor then, looking at him with unshed tears
sheltering behind his eyes. 

"No?" Legolas asked, "How long until you make me one?" 

"What?" Elessar's question was confused and bewildered. He took a step towards
Legolas, but stopped at the sight of what lay behind those eyes. 

"How long until you decide you've had enough of waiting and do to me what Lord
Gregor wanted to do?" Anger surged through Elessar at the comparison with
Gregor, but he kept it in check. 

"I would never force myself upon anyone," Elessar said, trying to keep the anger
out of his voice. Failing miserably. 

"Of course not," Legolas responded, rising to his feet, "you wait until they've
adjusted to their position as slave. You give them time to consider their fate.
After all, you're not doing anything wrong if they don't beg you to stop." 

The tone of Legolas' voice was stoking Elessar's anger into a blazing inferno
within him. Elessar's hands were clenched to fists at his side, and Legolas was
bracing himself for a blow. Elessar's temper was a beast, barely kept in check
by his rational mind. 

"You do not know me," Elessar said, "you cannot judge me." 

He turned and walked from the room, closing the door firmly behind him. If he
stayed and heard just one more baseless accusation, there was no knowing if he
would be able to hold himself in control any longer. 

He would not strike Legolas for speaking out in fear. The prince was clearly
terrified that Elessar would try to take him, and Elessar could hardly blame him
that. But he was incapable of holding himself calm when someone called him a
rapist. No, he would not be able to face Legolas tonight and remain secure that
he would not do something he should not. In the morning perhaps he would be
calmer. 

He left the room, hoping that a walk would calm him enough so that he would be
able to sleep tonight. The gardens were cold and crisp, a clear sky revealing
millions of stars weaving their paths across the heavens. He stared upwards,
letting the sight work its magic and ease the tension inside him. 

Some time later, a little more relaxed and a lot calmer, he returned to his
rooms. The door to the bedroom was shut as he had left it, and there were soft
sounds of sobs from behind it. The sounds were stifled, and Elessar knew that
Legolas must have heard his arrival. 

He hesitated at the door, not sure he could face the prince again so soon. Words
might be said that would do neither of them any good. He turned away again. It
would be best if they stayed apart until tomorrow. Then he would speak to
Boromir, and Legolas would be able to avoid him for as long as he desired. 

There was a row of elegant, gold hooks beside the door leading to the rest of
the palace. From one of these hung Elessar's hunting cloak. He took it down now
and carried it to one of the soft armchairs. He pulled off his boots and then
positioned a cushion so that it would serve as a pillow. 

Still dressed and unbathed, he tucked the cloak around himself as a blanket and
curled his feet under him. It was not the most comfortable of places to sleep,
but he'd slept in far worse over the years. He could cope for tonight. 

He drifted asleep slowly, keenly aware of the muffled sobs from the room beside
him. 

***

Legolas sank down onto the bed again as Elessar left. He heard the door of the
room beyond open and shut. Then he was left alone. The only sound in the room
was that of his own breathing and his racing heart. 

He'd been certain that Elessar meant to hit him, he'd been prepared for the
blow. But none had come. The man had walked away, leaving Legolas unharmed,
despite his obvious anger at Legolas' words. 

Legolas thought back over what he'd said. He'd as good as called the man a
rapist, without ever thinking that it might not be true. His fears had
automatically painted the man as an evil, selfish. . . human. But Elessar had
shown more control than Legolas, who prided himself on always maintaining his
dignity. 

Clearly the man was not as cruel and heartless as Legolas had allowed himself to
believe. He hadn't asked to have Legolas as a slave, it was written into the
treaty's law. Elessar had been no more able to refuse it than Thranduil. But why
this bedroom? Why have Legolas share his bed if not for. . .? 

Legolas felt his fears wash over him again. He could not be certain either way.
This might be just some game Elessar was playing, and he wouldn't know the
difference. He wished he was home. He wished he was back with his family, where
he knew what would happen and how to deal with any problems he might face. 

Tears trickled down his face, streams of salted water becoming rivers and
torrents. He curled up on the bed, sobbing at the wreck his life had become. He
tried to stop, tried to tell himself that this wasn't necessary, but the tears
kept coming. He cried pitifully, as a child longing for a parent's loving arm. 

When he heard the outer door open, and soft footsteps cross the other room, he
tried again to hold back the flood. He didn't want to be found like this. The
sobs kept up though, unwilling to release their hold over him. 

He was glad when the bedroom door failed to open, when the sounds in the room
beyond fell still. After some time, Legolas' crying ceased too, and all that was
left was the echoing stillness of the room. 

Curiously, he crossed to the door, and pulled it gently open. He saw Elessar
almost instantly, curled up asleep in a chair. He could have easily demanded
Legolas leave, and been well within his rights to do so. After all, it was
Legolas who had said those things to him, those things Legolas now wished he
could take back. 

The man was letting Legolas sleep alone, or perhaps was unwilling to sleep
beside one who thought so ill of him. Either way, he chose to let Legolas be the
one in comfort, choosing to sleep himself like this. Why? To prove the point
that he was not evil? Or because he truly wished for Legolas' comfort? 

Legolas returned to the bed, and sank on top of the soft blankets. He couldn't
bring himself to actually get into the bed, though he couldn't say even to
himself whether it was because of the position, or because of guilt that the
bed's owner wasn't where Legolas was. 

Confused by Elessar's seemingly contradictory actions, it took Legolas a long
while to go to sleep. He wished he could talk to Elessar, to ask him certain
questions. Only by doing so would Legolas be able to rid himself of the feeling
that he was the one in the wrong.